The Midnight Heiress (Once Upon a Regency Book 2) Read online

  “I know how it feels to long for escape.” His voice grew quiet. “We may not be in control of our circumstances, but we are in control of our reaction to them. We control how deeply they penetrate us. One might view misfortune as a gift, as it allows you to treasure much more each fortunate thing that befalls you.” He stopped to grip her hand. Her eyes flew up to his face. “You, Kate. I treasure you. I—I believe I may be falling in love with you.”

  The sweetness of his words ached in her chest. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, another cage with which she was bound. Her heart could never escape its duty. It could never belong to him.

  “Mr. Notley,” she shook her head at the ground, tearing her gaze from his face. “I have not been entirely honest with you.” Heat rose to her cheeks with the increase of her pulse. How could she confess to her lies? To do so would be the most difficult thing she had ever done. “I have neglected to tell you…” She paused. Would it be so very bad to hold onto her ruse for one more day? “… that you have become a very dear friend.” Her words came out rushed, too quick to sound sincere.

  Aiden released her hand, his own cheeks reddening at the centers. “A friend?” He nodded. “Forgive me, Miss Kate, if I have spoken too freely.”

  She shook her head. “Not at all.” Her heart still thrummed against her chest with his words. “You are very kind.”

  He drew a deep breath, a smile lighting his features. “I am glad you found me here. I’ve been given the day off and was hoping to somehow spend it with you.”

  She couldn’t believe that she had come across him in the woods. It was as if fate were playing her hand to throw them together. But how could that be so? His eyes had their usual effect on her thoughts, sending them spinning in irrational directions. She stooped below a bare branch, misjudging the distance. The branch caught a strand of her hair, causing her to stop abruptly. She laughed, struggling to pull away.

  Aiden jumped to action, turning toward her, extending his hands above her head to free her hair from the branch. His fingers brushed against her skin. His chin was level with her eyes, and she could feel the faintness of his breath against her forehead, see the steady rise and fall of his chest as he untangled her hair. Her laughter grew soft, strained against the beating of her heart.

  When he finished, he smoothed the curls back from her eyes, smiling down at her with enough admiration to set her legs shaking. What would it be like to kiss him? She had never kissed a man, though more than one had attempted to kiss her. She had been the victim of two different men that had attempted to be caught with her in a compromising situation, hoping to reap the rewards of a marriage with her through such unscrupulous ways. But she knew Aiden was not such a man. He would not steal a kiss from her—he would wait until it was willingly given. He would wait, he would cherish her, he would not care about her fortune more than he cared about her. She had learned to defend herself against wicked men, and she knew how to sense them coming. Aiden was the kindest, most sincere and good man she had had ever met. She could trust him—she could even trust him enough to allow him to kiss her.

  He looked into her eyes, the distance between them growing smaller. His gaze dropped to her lips, his breathing falling out of rhythm. Her own breath stalled as he touched her cheek.

  “I believe I set you free from the branch,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. He smiled, breaking the enchantment that seemed to have fallen between them. He gestured at the branch above, and she forced a laugh, taking a step away from him.

  “Thank you. You have rescued me on more than one occasion.” Her smile grew with his—a smile so wide her cheeks ached. “Freddy is still under punishment. He will be quite envious that I have the privilege of seeing you and he does not.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “My company isn’t such a novelty.”

  “It is,” she protested. “I—I have never felt more myself than when I am with you. You have a certain ease of character that is quite infectious.”

  He looked down at the ground with her compliment, his humility evident. All her suitors that would come calling to Silverbard reveled in her flattery, false as it was.

  “I should hate to have you feel anything but ease around me.” He met her eyes. “I hope there is nothing that would deter you from spending time with me.”

  Guilt writhed in her stomach, nearly choking her. There were many things that could deter her from seeing him again, especially after the ball. She would be faced with many potential husbands there, and her parents would expect her to pursue them.

  When she failed to answer, he took another step away, leaving the shade of the tree. “There is a matter I must warn you of in behalf of your mistress.” His expression grew serious.

  Dread fell through her. “What is it?”

  “As you know, I work in the home of Lord Aveley and his sons. I overheard them speaking of their intentions toward Lady Katherine. I’m afraid Evan—Lord Browning intends to ruin her reputation as an attempt to gain her hand in marriage.”

  Kate’s heart raced. Any hope she had held that Lord Evan Browning would be a desirable match fled her. Was Lord Orsett her only hope? If his brother was such a scoundrel, he could very well be the same. She slumped against the tree, her muscles growing weak. She didn’t even know the appearance of Lord Aveley or his sons, and she wouldn’t until they were introduced. If she told her father of Aiden’s warning, he would dismiss it. He would never trust the word of a servant above the marquess who had spoken highly of his sons.

  “Will Lady Katherine have adequate protection at the ball? Will the duke be keeping a careful watch on her?”

  Kate nodded. “She will know to be wary of Lord Aveley and his sons.” She swallowed. “Thank you for warning me. I will—I will pass the warning to her.”

  He did not seem to be convinced. He studied her with a look of deep examination. “Are you certain? If it is possible, I will find a way to the ball myself and keep careful watch of the marquess’s son.”

  Gratitude welled in her chest, mingling with the longing she had felt for him to attend the ball. She would feel safe with him near. She would finally have a reason not to dread the ball. But how could he attend? He would see her there and know she had been lying to him. He would know that she was the duke’s daughter, the one he had come to protect.

  “She will be fine. I will ensure her protection myself. At any rate, you would not be able to enter the ball, being a servant.” Her voice softened and she looked down at her feet.

  When she looked up at him again, a muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. He looked as if he wished to say more, but stopped himself. “Very well, but please remember that these men are cunning. They want nothing more than Lady Katherine’s fortune, and they will go to despicable lengths to obtain it.”

  Another surge of fear struck her chest. “I understand. I will instruct her to take care.”

  He nodded, reaching inside his boot to withdraw a small pocket watch. The outside was carved intricately with doves. He opened it to check the time before snapping it closed. He smiled at the contraption, a certain wistful longing in his expression.

  “This belonged to my father.” He held the watch up to the light. “It was my mother’s before that. She gave it to him as a gift at their engagement.”

  She smiled, the fear within her fading with his sentiments. “Are your parents well?”

  He shook his head. “They died several years ago. First my father, then my mother.”

  Kate felt his grief, stinging in her own heart. She was reminded yet again of how very fortunate she was. She had both her parents still living, caring for her happiness.

  “You must miss them terribly.”

  He gave a soft smile. “I do miss them, but I see them in the things they left behind. I see my father in this watch. I see him in my own reflection, and in the sound of my own voice. I see my mother in the trees and flowers, and in the dancing slippers she left behind.” He looked down, becoming shy once again. “I se
e a bit of her in you as well. In your kindness and joyful disposition.” He met her eyes, and it was all she could do not to cry. How could Aiden be more genuine and sweet? Her heart ached.

  “Your parents sound lovely,” she whispered. “I’m certain you house many more qualities of theirs than even you realize.”

  “I hope one day to be like them.” He squared his shoulders, his determination evident.

  The air between them fell silent, and he extended his arm to her again. She took it, comfortable in the serene sounds of nature as they walked. They followed the path of the brook, and Aiden teased her about her fall, and they laughed until their stomachs ached. For hours they talked and laughed and teased. Kate had never been more content.

  Her grief threatened to overwhelm her as the sun faded below the horizon and he bid her farewell. He walked her to the edge of the Timberwell property, but not farther. She could only imagine her mother’s anger when she arrived after having been gone the entire day without explanation.

  Aiden took her hand in his, placing a gentle kiss against it. “Extend my greetings to Freddy,” he said, keeping her hand wrapped up in his.

  “I will.” A tear slipped from her eye as she turned, but the darkness concealed it from his view. “Goodbye, Mr. Notley.”

  “Goodbye.” His voice was cheerful, light, a stark contrast to the emotion that burned in her heart.

  The permanence of that goodbye would haunt her forever. She could not face him again. To do so would be foolish and would only hurt them both. She was tempted to run again, but she maintained her pace, stepping over the grass while tears fell silently down her cheeks.

  CHAPTER 9

  A week had passed since Aiden had last seen Kate. Memories of their last meeting still thrived in his mind, filling him with strength and resolve. Once he had a secure living in place, he could ask her to marry him. He had never been more certain of anything in his life. He wanted to have many more days with Kate like he had just had the week before.

  He had been busy all week working on Lady Katherine’s shoes, day and night, as well as finishing the cleaning of Colborne Hall. He had walked through the woods, hoping to find Kate there, but he had been unsuccessful. He stopped himself from worrying over her, focusing on the task at hand. The slippers were nearly complete. He poked at the fire in the cordwainer’s shop, the dim light becoming a strain on his vision. The flames grew, and he returned to his wooden stool.

  The duke and duchess had begun to grow impatient. Mr. Haskett had assured them the slippers would arrive in time for the ball, but Aiden was beginning to doubt himself. The ball was the next day, and he would need to deliver them promptly in the morning.

  He had overheard his stepbrothers speaking again of their intentions toward Lady Katherine, and Aiden had half a mind to rush to Timberwell and warn the duke and duchess himself. But surely Kate had warned her mistress of the danger Miles and Evan presented. He pushed away his troubled thoughts.

  He had finished the fabric rosettes that would adorn the toes of the slippers, and was now finishing the structure of the silk shoe. By the time the sun rose, Mr. Haskett returned to the shop, and Aiden was still not finished.

  Aiden stretched his back with a sigh of frustration, the slippers still not nearly as perfect as he wanted them to be. Mr. Haskett’s cheeks reddened with concealed anxiety, picking up one of the slippers carefully.

  “They are nearly finished,” Aiden said.

  “Not so.” Mr. Haskett fanned his face with one hand, drying the perspiration that had gathered on his forehead. “The sole has yet to be attached, and the rosettes are still resting on the table.” He puffed a long breath out from his nostrils. “Will they be finished in time for the ball?”

  “Yes. I assure you, they will.” Aiden squared his shoulders and returned his wearied focus to the slippers.

  Mr. Haskett still appeared hesitant, but he walked away, his breathing still quickened with worry. “We cannot lose the duchess as a customer,” he muttered, more to himself than to Aiden.

  Aiden stared out the front window of the shop. He had to finish the slippers in time for the ball. His stepfather had also requested that he finish polishing the silver in the dining room that day for his upcoming guests. And all Aiden could think about was his next opportunity to see Kate. Perhaps when he delivered the shoes to Timberwell he could request to see her, but she still thought him to be a mere servant in Colborne Hall. She didn’t know he was working to become a tradesman, or that he was the son of a gentleman.

  He cringed inwardly at the depth of lies he had found himself in. Why had he not simply confessed his true position to her? Why had he allowed his stepfather to dictate yet another aspect of his life? His ruse would end tonight. He needed to confess.

  When the sun reached its highest point in the sky, Aiden still was not finished. As it faded toward the horizon, he still was not finished. And as night fell upon Gravesend, he finally took his last stitch, securing the last rosette to the top of the slipper. Mr. Haskett had been practically hovering over him as he worked, pacing in circles of anticipation.

  “How extraordinary,” the strained compliment had come multiple times, always ending with a huffed and exerted breath.

  The ball was only minutes from beginning.

  “Please, let me inspect them.” Mr. Haskett snatched the shoes from Aiden’s grasp, studying them from every angle. “Very well, very well done.” His brows drew together above his spectacles. “They could not be more well made, Notley. If only you had finished them faster. Only a shoe this lovely could tempt the duchess to remain a customer of ours after such late delivery. Make haste!” He clapped his hands together. “Take them to Timberwell at once! The ball is beginning at nine!”

  Aiden checked his pocket watch, dismayed by the sight. He had thirty minutes to make it inside Timberwell before they began welcoming their guests. He jumped from his stool, dizzy from the sudden movement.

  “Oh, blast. You look positively dreadful. I will not have a representative of mine arrive at the home of a duke appearing so rugged.”

  “I must hurry, sir—”

  “It will be but a moment.” Mr. Haskett hustled out the door of the shop, returning shortly with the modiste from the shop next door. “Madam Boisseau has agreed to lend you a set of proper clothing. The woman beside him held a silver waistcoat, black jacket, and fitted trousers over her arm.

  Her sharp eyes took in his appearance. She tsked when she saw his hair. “Sit.” Her commanding voice gave Aiden no choice but to listen. She pulled a comb from her apron pocket and ran it swiftly through his dark hair. She thrust the stack of clothing toward Mr. Haskett, beckoning them both to follow her to her neighboring shop.

  The place was empty, dress forms and fabrics hanging all around. “My seamstresses have retired for the evening,” she said over her shoulder. “They have been worn to the bone with the making of Lady Katherine’s gown, just as you have with her slippers. She ought to be a pretty girl if such expenses are to be made on her behalf. Have you seen her?”

  It took a moment for Aiden to realize that Madam Boisseau addressed him. “No, I have not.”

  “Hmm.” She pulled him toward a sheeted dressing room. “Now, I suspect these will fit, but you must try them first. Mr. Haskett, do assist him with his cravat.” She addressed Aiden. “The way you present yourself will affect us all. We cannot have you reflecting badly on the Gravesend shops.”

  “Certainly not.” Mr. Haskett nodded.

  Aiden changed quickly into the clothes. The snug and perfect fit of the jacket and trousers was astonishing. He stepped out from the curtain, earning a gasp of delight from Madam Boisseau. “Perfection!”

  She thrust the piece of silken white fabric toward Mr. Haskett, commissioning him to tie it elaborately at Aiden’s neck. Aiden raised his chin to allow room for the cravat. He had never worn more than a simple knot, yet he had tied many more elaborate ones on his stepbrothers.

  “There. I would be ple
ased to present you for the queen.”

  “How very handsome you are, Mr. Notley.” Madam Boisseau circled him, eyes round with approval. “Take care to mention my hand in your clothing if compliments are to be received.”

  He laughed, uncomfortable with the attention. “You may rely upon it. I could never claim such finery as my own.”

  She laughed, a somewhat flirtatious sound. “Oh, Mr. Notley. It is your natural assets that bring your appearance such advantage. A well-dressed man cannot live up to a handsome and kind one.”

  “The time! The slippers!” Mr. Haskett had been staring at Aiden as a father might stare proudly at a son, forgetting the most important matter at hand. Aiden followed him out of the shop and took the boxed slippers under his arm.

  “Make haste, Notley!” Mr. Haskett shouted as Aiden set off on foot toward Timberwell. Madam Boisseau waved at him, a bright smile on her cheeks.

  Aiden checked his pocket watch again, moving his feet faster across the dark cobblestones. He knew the way to Timberwell without hesitation, and he arrived in less than ten minutes. Carriages had already arrived on the drive, their inhabitants waiting impatiently to be invited inside. He arrived at the front door, jumping over the steps. He raised the brass knocker and waited.

  The butler pulled the door open, taking in his appearance with curiosity.

  “Good evening, sir. I am here on delivery of Lady Katherine’s slippers. On behalf of Mr. Haskett, I offer my sincere apology for the lack of punctuality. We—”

  A young woman stepped up beside the butler, eyeing the box with a flick of her gaze. “Are those m’lady’s slippers?”

  Aiden felt his brow contract. “Yes. I thought I might deliver them to Lady Katherine’s maid.”

  “I’m her maid, sir.” The young woman grasped impatiently at the box, offering him a curt smile. “She mustn’t be late for her own ball.”

  “Does Lady Katherine have another maid? One by the name of Kate?”

  The young woman’s cheeks paled and she shook her head. “I’m ‘fraid not. Good evening, sir.” She bustled toward the staircase, taking one more glance at him over her shoulder.